


Love in Cold Blood

by Trash



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Abortion, Angst, Community: norsekink, Hurt/Comfort, Intersex Loki, M/M, Mpreg, Pro-life ideologies, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is pregnant after being raped. Abortions are against the law in Asgard, but Loki is not willing to live with the daily reminder of his attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt on Norsekink](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/12950.html?thread=31177622#t31177622) which, in a nutshell, was 'Loki gets pregnant, which is a result of rape but abortions are against the law in Asgard'. Thank you to Ella for being my beta and all round hand-holder. 
> 
> Just a quick disclaimer to say that views expressed in this fic are not my own. I am against victim blaming and am pro-choice.

"Does your brother truly remain untouched?" Fandral asks, eyeing Loki from across the banquet table. 

Thor coughs into his goblet of wine. "You seem sure I can answer your question, my friend. Why not ask Lady Sigyn, with whom Loki spends his time? I am sure she would be happy to tell you tales of my brother's bedroom."

Fandral nods, eyes narrowed. "I doubt she has any tales to tell."

"My friend, Loki is not a maiden you may bed at will."

Raising his goblet to his lips once more Fandral shrugs, "You know not my intentions. I merely find it unlikely. He is stunning."

Sigyn doesn't take her eyes off Loki, gently pushing a lock of his hair away from his face. He flinches but doesn't move away when she leans in to murmur, "We seem to be a riveting topic of conversation for your brother and the warrior Fandral."

Loki smiles. "So I can hear. My chamber activities seem to be a great source of mystery to them both."

"They think you have taken me as your maiden."

"And we will let them continue to think that, will we not?"

Sigyn nods. "Of course, my prince."

"Now if you may excuse me, Lady Sigyn, I shall retire." Loki gets to his feet and extends his hand, taking Sigyn's in his own and raising it to his lips for a kiss that makes her eyes darken. 

Loki was introduced to Sigyn by Thor many years ago. “She is beautiful, is she not?” Thor said as they both watched her speaking with a servant across the dining hall.

“Yes,” Loki said. She is, and she obviously desired him. Loki, however, only had desire for one. He slipped his hand into Thor’s.

“You know we cannot continue this, Loki,” Thor said sadly, “you should find a maiden.”

“And you?”

“Lady Sif-” Thor began, but Loki disappeared before he can finish.

Thor suspected it was Loki who shaved off Sif’s golden locks whilst she slept, but Sigyn took the blame. She was reprimanded, and paid dwarves to weave Sif new hair. That night she came to Loki’s bed chambers, wearing a knowing smile.

“If you have come to reap your reward you will be disappointed,” he said.

“Nay. I have come to make a deal with you.”

“Oh?”

Sigyn slunk closer, her eyes narrowed and mischievous. “I will pretend to be your mistress, if you teach me magic. I know the true nature of your relationship with your brother, and I do not think you would want that to become common knowledge?”

Loki smirked, “My, my. Lady Sigyn. Who would have thought we would be so similar in mind?”

In his chambers Loki undresses slowly, glad to be rid of his celebratory garb in favour of a simple nightshirt. He finds feasts exhausting, but is at least grateful for Sigyn who shares his negative view of gatherings. Opening his hand he extinguishes the candles until there is nothing but darkness, standing in silence and breathing it in. Climbing into bed Loki exhales, grateful for rest at last. When he falls asleep he does not dream. 

The sun has not yet risen when the door to his chambers open quietly. The noise of footsteps crossing the room may not have disturbed anybody else, but Loki was immediately alert. "Thor," he whispers into the darkness, his words being swallowed like a coin dropped in oil. "Not tonight, brother, I beg of you."

The bed dips and Loki sighs - his brother is nothing if not relentless. He is about to roll over to issue is most impatient glare when he is pulled toward the body behind him, a hand clamped over his mouth. 

It isn't Thor. 

Loki's eyes widen in dismay and he struggles to free his hands from beneath the furs to conjure a spell, anything, but he finds his wrists snatched up, clenched in one of the intruder's hands and pinned above his head. Desperately, Loki bucks beneath his captor like a wild animal. 

"Ssh," a voice whispers. "So, it transpires that Thor did know whether or not you were touched."

The body settles atop Loki's, the weight crushing the air from his lungs. He squints in the dark, trying to pick out the features of the intruder. When he does he cannot quite believe his own eyes. 

"Fandral, this need go no further. I will never speak a word of this. You have had too much fine wine. You should leave."

Fandral pushes himself down, making his intent and desire entirely obvious. He groans, his mouth against Loki's neck. "Your skin is cold."

"My friend, please-"

"You should know by now, Liesmith, that I am not your friend."

Those are the last words Loki hears before Fandral tears a strip of fabric from his own tunic and stuffs it into Loki's mouth to shut him up. Turning his head to the door Loki concentrates hard, trying his best to open it without the use of his hands. He loses all thought when Fandral frees himself and brushes against Loki's cunt. 

Fandral raises an eyebrow. "Well now, that is unusual. Is this why Thor enjoys bedding you?"

Loki scowls and thrashes, howling in pain as Fandral pushes in. No, no, this is not why Thor enjoys bedding him. Thor asked once if they could do it this way and Loki refused, ashamed to be different. He arches hard and cries out as Fandral pushes in deeper, moaning. He still has both of Loki's hands trapped in one of his, the other pins down his hips. 

He tries to keep the tears from his eyes, refuses to lose control now when he has kept such a tight grip on it his entire life. He turns his head away so as to avoid Fandral's expression as his face tightens with pleasure. He wills himself to think of Thor, to imagine his hands, but even those memories are soiled now that Fandrall is savvy to their relationship. 

"Look at me, Loki," Fandral whispers. "Does this not feel good?"

Loki looks at him. "No."

Fandral back hands him and thrusts one final time, spilling deep within him. The pain seems to peak, and Loki chews his lip until it bleeds. The second Fandral lets his wrists go Loki takes a deep breath and vanishes. 

Fandral collapses into the empty space left behind, confused. He feels around in the dark, whispering, "Loki?"

Loki closes the door to his washroom, locking it behind him before he dare reappear. He listens carefully to Fandral staggering around his chambers until the door slams and there is only silence. Somebody is sobbing, and it takes Loki a while to realise it is him. 

He clutches at his torn nightshirt and tries to regain composure. Perhaps this is all nothing more than a nightmare. When he is sure he is alone he treads carefully into the main body of his chambers, opening one sore hand to light the candles around the room. The furs and bed sheets are dishevelled and there is a lot more blood than Loki had been expecting. His nightshirt is smeared with blood too, as are the insides of his thighs. 

The pain is deep and sharp and causes him to limp, but he manages to pull himself together enough to clean the room with a sweep of a hand. There are bruises on his wrists that will need to be healed come the morning, but for now he simply whispers a spell to put himself into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

***

Come morning Loki wishes he had not awoken. The sun has risen, and he will have missed breakfast. That means he has perhaps an hour or so before Thor comes to see if he is unwell. He makes swift work of healing his bruises and his split lip, draws himself a bath to remove the traces of last night that even magic can't remove.

Each move sends him reeling in pain. He steps carefully into the tub and sinks below the water with his eyes closed. Perhaps he can just drown? His lungs burn and his mind screams to him to surface. He opens his eyes, the water making his vision unclear, and sees the outline of someone standing over him. Sitting up quickly Loki gasps for air. He flicks his wet hair from his eyes, unable to look directly at Thor who watches him, concerned.

"Brother, are you unwell? I did not see you at breakfast."

Loki tries to smile reassuringly, aware that it appears as more of a grimace. "Nay. I over slept. I fear I may have overdone the celebrations last night."

Thor sits on the edge of the tub and watches him, amused. "Truly? I hear the same complaints from Fandral."

Loki feels what colour had returned to his face drain away. "Sorry?"

"Fandral," Thor repeats slowly, as though Loki were hard of hearing. "Sif saw him follow you from the banquet hall last night. He did not return for a long time."

It felt like years, Loki wants to say. And to think, the feast was still going on in the hall the whole time. "Is the conclusion you have drawn that I invited Fandral to my bed, brother?" He asks, his tongue struggling to shape the words. 

Thor frowns, chuckles. "Well, yes."

"What if I didn't? What if he came uninvited?"

"You do not need to explain yourself to me, brother. I am the one who first said you should seek another."

After everything Loki had hoped Thor's words would soothe his pain, but they merely act as a catalyst for deeper hurt. "No, Thor, you misunderstand. I did not invite Fandral here. Aye, he came to my bed, but not because I wanted him to, and he did not leave when I asked him to."

"At the table he said you were stunning," Thor says, as if that explains it all. "I am not surprised he did not want to leave."

The headache that had been threatening to explode behind Loki's eyes all morning begins to intensify and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "You do not listen to me,” he murmurs. 

“I came to ask if you would like to join The Warriors Three and I on patrol this morning,” Thor says, as though he is offering his brother something of privilege.

“You already know my answer, brother,” Loki says, somewhat nastily. “I have some things I need to study with the help of Mother, if you could send her before you leave?”

“Of course,” Thor says, his brows furrowed together. “If I have caused offense-“

“I am tired, Thor. Fandral The Dashing is hardly the gentleman you think he is.”

A smirk creeps onto Thor’s face and he nods. “Very well. Good day, Loki,” he says as he leaves. When the door closes Loki lies back down, trying once more to drown himself.

***

When Frigga comes to his chambers Loki is already dressed and sitting in the sun on the balcony with a book open in his lap. "My son," she says in greeting, sitting on the stone wall with a smile. "You summoned me."

"I have some questions I don't know anybody else could answer, if I were willing to ask them."

"Go ahead."

"I am different. You know this, you must know this already."

Frigga's face softens and she joins Loki on the floor, sitting cross-legged opposite him and reaching across his book to take his hands. "You are different. But we all are different from one another."

Loki's lip curls in a barely contained snarl. "You need not mollycoddle me, mother. I have read many texts and they all point to the same thing. So tell me the truth."

Frigga sighs, her face falling. "Your father has told you many stories of the Casket of Ancient Winters. After retrieving the casket he found a baby in the temple. The baby was small, for a Jotun, and had been abandoned by Laufey for being so."

Loki stares at the page of his book, at the drawing of Jotunheim, of drawings of the Frost Giants he was given nightmares about as a child. 

"If a Jotun doesn't meet certain expectations they are left to die, and this baby...you...you were no different. Your father rescued you, and we raised you as our own."

"Would you have ever told me?"

Frigga nods, even though Loki won't look at her. "Of course, when the time was right. No matter what you are still my son, our son, and we love you."

Loki traces a line of the book and blinks back tears. "Am I the last to know this? Or am I the first? Has it been a terrible burden, harbouring a Frost Giant in secret all these years?"

"I think it does not matter what my answer is, as you have already decided how you feel."

Loki looks up, frowning. He tries to quell his anger. "I have not decided anything, it was all decided for me long before now. All those times I have heard Thor and the Warriors Three discuss their desire to see a Frost Giant die by their own hands," he pauses, arms spread wide, a sad smile on his face, "well here is their chance."

"Oh Loki, you know your brother loves you. He would never hurt you, nor would any of your friends."

Oh yes, Loki thinks, Thor definitely loves me. "Jotnar are different to the Aesir," Loki says, not feeling the need to specify the ways in which he means. 

Though it isn't a question Frigga answers. "Yes. Jotnar do not need a mate of the opposite gender to procreate."

Loki blinks, his vision blurred by tears. The weight of the words he had feared hearing hits him like a stone. "Leave me, please," he murmurs, his voice breaking. Frigga doesn't attempt to talk him into letting her stay, leaves without another word. 

When the door closes Loki closes the book with shaking hands, and takes a deep shuddering breath.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everybody who reviewed, and even more thanks to anybody who has come back to read more.

It is tempting to hide away, but he is too proud to let Fandral know he is scared. He has never been scared, except when listening to the stories his father told him of Jotunheim. That the Jotnar could live in such a barren wasteland where nothing grows and the sun does not shine has always been a great source of bemusement for Loki. Living under Asgard's golden sun, roaming the plentiful gardens of the citadel, he cannot imagine anything else. 

He tries to recall his first memories, but he can feel naught but the warmth of his mother's touch and hear naught but the boom of his father's voice. He wonders what it must be like, to see through eyes of red. If the Jotnar are Asgard's enemies, is he? Would Asgardians tar he and the Frost Giants with the same brush? Would Fandral still have undone him as he has if he knew what he was touching?

Loki finds his way to the casket under the cover of darkness. He cannot sleep for nausea, and he hasn't been able to eat all day - he worries what these symptoms mean but tries to push it to the back of his mind. The Casket is the only light in the vault and he is drawn to it. Touching it brings a heat to his hands that he has never felt before, and suddenly his eyesight is keen as a wildcat in the dark. He does not need to turn around to know Odin is there. 

"My son."

Loki laughs. "And to think, all along I am the one who has been accused of being a trickster and a liar. If only Thor could see me now. Would he slay me? Would you?" He turns slowly, casket in hands. 

"The day was always going to come when I would tell you of your true parentage. I did not want it to be like this."

"It was always going to be like this," Loki hisses. 

Odin stares him down. "I saved you. If you think Laufey would have spared you you are wrong. You were too small, and he had no use for you." Odin advances slowly. "Laufey would have left you to die."

"Would that he had. When it comes to light that I am one of them I will be seen as a monster, and until then I will be seen as a conquest. You know, I assume, of the mating behaviour of the Jotnar."

Odin nods. "I have heard. But know that you are only a conquest if you want to be."

Loki glowers, shame burning inside. 

"Put down the Casket, Loki."

Loki acquiesces, setting it down carefully. It takes a moment for his skin to return to his regular colouring, and when he does he feels powerless. 

***

Loki manages to evade direction conversation with Thor, and to be in the same room as Fandral The Dashing without letting his nerves get the better of him. The few times their eyes meet Fandral smiles, and Loki feels as though he can see into his very soul. He steels himself and smiles back, lips tight against his teeth. He could poison Fandral's cup, nobody would ever suspect him. 

Eventually Thor tracks him down and stands outside of the door to Loki's chambers, unwilling to leave. "Loki, please. Would you felt you could share your troubles with me, brother," he says through the locked door. Clearly he knows better than to try and enter - he has been on the business end of Loki's enchanted barriers multiple times as they grew up.

"I am unwell," Loki says. It is not really a lie - his stomach has been churning and his back aches. He has spent a lot of his day looking at himself side-on in his looking glass, wishing away the bump that has begun to form. Any doubt he had previously has been wiped out - he is with child. Playing host to such a parasite makes him uneasy, exhausted. Even the most basic magic leaves him drained for days. "If that answer satisfies you not, seek counsel with mother." He waits, expecting a response. When he gets none he continues. "Please send Lady Sigyn."

"Loki..."

"Brother, do this for me. I do not ask much."

Thunderous footsteps mark Thor's path away from Loki's chambers, and the next knock on the door is lighter. When she receives no response Sigyn bypasses the enchantment and opens the door. She hovers in the doorway of his outer chambers as he paces the room.

"You summoned me." 

"As with all of our conversations, I trust that nothing I say will find its way out of this room."

Sigyn nods. "Of course, my prince."

"I am with child." Loki is surprised at how easily he put it into words. Half Jotun half Aesir, this is not a child - it is a monster. 

"Are you sure?" 

Loki watches her darkly. "If I weren't we would not be having this counsel."

"I want proof. You have tricked me with less before, Odinson."

Loki clenches his teeth and unfastens his shirt, lifting his tunic to reveal his swollen stomach. Sigyn still doesn't look convinced. "Why are you telling me this? Surely when you lay with the father of the child you understood the possible repercussions." She steps forward and presses her hand to the skin of his stomach, head cocked to the side curiously.

Loki tries to school his expression into one of disinterest but he struggles. "I did not lay with the father, _he_ lay with _me_." he says, brushing away Sigyn's hand and straightening his clothes "I need you to find me a healer, one who will deal with this for me. I am willing to pay whatever it takes, both the healer and yourself for your work."

"Loki...it is forbidden. You must carry the child until it is born, that is the law."

Loki steps toward her, fists clenched. "I do not hold Odin's laws highly - you of all people should know that."

If Sigyn is intimidated by the barely contained violence in his voice she shows no sign of it. "Yes, my prince," she says with a bow of her head. "I shall report back as soon as I have something of value."

"Thank you," Loki says, "you are dismissed."

With a curtsey Sigyn leaves, the door closing untouched behind her. Loki drifts into his inner chambers and sits on the edge of the bed, hands holding his swollen abdomen lightly. He can feel magic humming beneath his touch and he jerks away as though burned. Closing his eyes he tries to think of anything other than Fandral, and when he opens them again his room is trashed. 

"Damn."

***

Sigyn returns from her quest a week later looking solemn. "Your brother has questioned me."

Loki doesn't sit up to look at her, his energy completely sapped by the pregnancy. Every second of sleep he manages to get is plagued with nightmares of Fandral creeping into his chambers. He sighs. "Did you tell him to keep his nose out of business which does not concern him?"

"Of course I did. He is concerned, and will not be out off easily. He worries you will do something you may regret in your current state."

”You both know of my true parentage, then?"

Sigyn perches on the edge of Loki's bed, brushing his sweat-damp hair from his face tenderly. "I have always known," she says without elaborating. "Thor simply wishes to see you, he did not express his feelings."

"I hope you are here with news other than this."

"I found a healer, my prince, one who would return you to your previous state."

Loki nods. "I shall leave immediately."

"The healer is not of Asgard," Sigyn says as Loki pushes himself to sit up, one hand pressed to his stomach. 

"Then where?"

Sigyn watches him uncomfortably. "Jotunheim."

***  
Loki rides across the Bifrost knowing that there are many eyes on him, judging him. He dismounts, approaching Heimdall on foot. "I seek counsel with Laufey," Loki says, "to discuss my parentage."

Heimdall looks down at him blankly. "I will remind you of Asgard's laws on childbirth, Prince Loki, and that any bearing a child must carry it until it is born naturally."

Loki grits his teeth, fists clenched. "That is fascinating, Heimdall, truly. Tell me, if you know so much of my personal affairs then you will also know of the events that transpired to lead us to this conversation. Would that you had done something about it before now."

Heimdall watches him warily before stepping to one side and letting Loki past, following him into the observatory. "I see many things I have no authority to act upon. Am I to take preference simply because you are a Son of Odin?”

Loki turns slowly and narrows his eyes. “If it were Thor in my place you would have taken preference. If it were any of the Aesir-” 

“You seem to have forgotten that it was I who opened the Bifrost for Odin after Jotunheim fell to the Asgardian forces. He returned with a babe in his arms – you. I have always known of your origins. It is not my place to regard one race more highly than another. Politics do not interest me.”

“No,” Loki laughs, humourlessly. “No, you’re all about fairness. Will you open the Bifrost? Or shall we stand here until I go into labour?”

***

Loki follows Sigyn's directions to the healer, situated in little more than a cave carved out of the frozen rock, just out of sight of the temple. The Frost Giant healer greets him with a snarl, looking down at him in disgust. "I told the Asgardian woman that I cannot, and will not, heal her kind. It is a shame she has sent you here to certain death."

Loki all but rolls his eyes. "Then it is a good job I am not an Asgardian.”. Stepping forward, Loki reaches out to touch the healer’s arm. His skin transforms once more as it did in the weapons vault, his vision adapting to the darkness surrounding them surprisingly quickly. 

"What is this trickery?" He asks, his red eyes taking in the lines appearing across Loki's face. "Those are the lines of the King."

"Then you will help me with my...predicament. Yes?"

The healer nods. "Follow me," he says, leading Loki further into the cave. There is a table carved from ice in the centre of the room they end up in, and the healer asks him to lie down. "Show me."

Loki does as he is told, revealing his stomach uncomfortably. He stares at the ceiling of the cave and tries to send his mind elsewhere - back to his childhood, learning to spar with his brother. He bites back a humourless laugh. He can no longer call Thor that. He knows now that Loki is a Frost Giant, masquerading as one of the Aesir. If he does not already, he will surely hate him soon enough. 

The healer places his hands over Loki's bump, frowning. "This child is half Aesir."

"Yes," Loki snaps.

"I cannot guarantee the effectiveness of my treatment in this case."

"I do not care," Loki murmurs. He can hear the defeated tone in his own voice and he hates it. “Lady Sigyn promised you gold, did she not? That payment will be forthcoming whether I survive or not. You have my word.”

The healer looks at him for a moment, studying him. Is this what Loki would have become, this thing of nightmares? The healer has him sit up and drink something from a goblet that tastes like earth after rain, heady and natural. It surprises him, and he wants to ask where in Jotunheim the healer found plants to concoct such a medicine. He can't find words, though, as the liquid burns on its way down. 

"Undress," the healer demands. Loki slowly slides off the table, his head spinning as if he has had too much mead. Clumsily he undresses, his hands feeling as if they have doubled in size. The medicine makes his blood burn through his veins and he can hear his own pulse. Suddenly he is gripped by a stomach cramp that feels like he has been stabbed. Loki doubles over, his breathing ragged and shallow. The healer helps him back up onto the table. Under the influence of whatever was in the goblet and blinded by the pain, Loki does not flinch when the healer spreads his legs with one large hand. 

"Try to relax," the healer says. Loki wants to laugh, but suddenly something is pushed deep inside him and he cries out. The medicine makes his body feel heavy, like he is tied to a lead block. He squirms uncomfortably, whimpering in pain. The healer's huge hand pins him down easily, whilst the other works the tool inside of Loki's body. 

He feels pulling, tearing, scraping. He remembers his first hunt with Thor and Odin, thinks of cleaning the repulsive hide, scraping the leather. The wounds he has received in battle compare in no way to this invasive pain. Something twists, something gives, and Loki blacks out. 

***

In his dreams the temple around him crumbles. But then somebody is there, a warm touch to ward away the cold. 

***

When he awakes there is somebody watching him. Immediately Loki wishes for unconsciousness to find him once more, if only to rid him of the pain. 

"He has the lines of the house of Laufey," says a voice, deep and merciless. Loki thinks of winter killing the buds of spring. 

"Aye. But he is naught but a runt. The King will surely put him to death," the healer chimes in.

"Does it matter? He has paid us handsomely, our job here is done."

"No, it is not. He could still bleed to death here. If we take him before the King he will question why we did not bring him sooner. He would run us through as surely as the runt," the healer warns. 

His company grunts. "How did he come to be among the Aesir?"

"I know not. We can question him if you wish?"

"Nay. You are right - he has paid us handsomely. It matters not. Besides, as soon as the house of Odin find out what he did here he will surely be cast out."

The healer laughs with such malice it makes Loki flinch. "He awakens. Leave, and tell none of his markings."

The other Jotun grunts, and Loki opens his eyes to watch his back as he retreats from the cave. He blinks up at the healer whose face is an impassive mask. Loki is struck suddenly with how empty he feels. He had considered the baby to be a parasite, but now he felt as though there was something missing. He opens his mouth to ask what they have done with it, but part of him doesn't want to know and the other part cannot form words for the pain. 

The healer pours something over Loki's lips. "Sleep," he says. So Loki does.

***

Thor pulls him closer until Loki's head is resting on his breastbone. He can hear his brother's heartbeat, steady and reassuring. 

"You are always so cold," Thor murmurs against the top of Loki's head. 

"And you always make such odd observations." Loki rolled onto his stomach to face him, smiling. "Now be quiet and kiss me."

***

When he awakes next he is fully dressed and in the mouth of the cave. Obviously the gold he paid the healer only counted for so long, and now his time is up. Shakily Loki gets to his feet. He is exhausted, his entire body screaming in agony. 

If he makes it ten paces away from the mouth of the cave before collapsing onto the hard ice he would be surprised. Desperately he tries to push himself to his feet, but he cannot take his own weight. He can feel blackness pressing at the corners of his eyes. Blindly, Loki reaches to the sky mouthing a word, a name. 

And then the Bifrost opens


	3. Chapter 3

Loki awakes in the healing room of the palace and the dread he had managed to subdue from the second Fandral touched him surfaces, manifesting itself as blind panic. He sits up quickly and Eir is by his side in an instant, pushing him back down gently.

“I am fine,” Loki says.

“You are no such thing,” Eir says. She has always been one of the only people in the palace not to give Loki preferential treatment, and has never been fooled by his lies. “I am quite aware of what went on in Jotunheim, and I think you are aware of the punishment for such behaviour.”

More than aware, actually, but the prison sentence won’t be a patch on whatever horrors Odin has in store for him. He finds it hard to meet her eyes. “You know not the circumstances which lead me to Jotunheim, though you may know of what happened there. Please,” he begs, “please do not tell father.”

“To not would be treason, which carries a penalty higher than the one you would face. You have broken a law, and you will have to face the consequences.”

Loki reaches out and grabs her wrist, tugging urgently. “Please, Eir, I beg of you. Not until after Thor’s coronation.”

“Why? Because you think your brother will be more a lenient king?”

“No. Because I do not want his day to be spent in the shadow of my mistake.”

Eir looks at him, challenging him, but nods. “So be it. But you must rest here. The coronation is tomorrow, which is not really enough bed rest at all.”

“I cannot stay here,” Loki says, sitting up again. “There will be questions that I cannot answer. I want nobody to know I was ever here.”

“If your Father asks...”

“If he asks you can send him to me, and I will tell him myself.”

Eir looks as though she may like to say something further, but she holds her tongue and bows her head. “Very well. Rest. That is all I ask.”

Loki tries to read her expression. “Of course. You have my gratitude.” He slides off the bed and limps out of the healing room, aware of Eir’s eyes on him the entire time. He makes it back to his chambers before the bleeding starts, and when it does it comes with the same deep, wrenching pain he experienced at the Jotun healer’s hands. He manages to close the door to his outer chamber before he falls to his knees, doubled up in pain.

On all fours he crawls to the washroom. Undressing is hard work, seeing as he cannot stand, and he wriggles out of his clothing the best he can. The amount of blood he finds takes his breath away for a moment, before he composes himself enough to clean it from where it has dried on the insides of his thighs. Once he is satisfied he no longer looks like he has been attacked, he makes his way carefully to the bedroom to slip on a nightshirt andm taking Eir’s advice, climbs into bed and prays for sleep.

***

Loki sleeps until the morning of Thor’s coronation, and awakes to a servant drawing a bath and another arranging his clothes. He sits up, dazed, and watches one of the servants wordlessly carry his soiled clothing from the bathroom with an unreadable expression on her face. Loki waves a hand, and they disappear from her arms in a cloud of smoke.

The servants wait patiently for him to get out of bed but he is aware that he has bled again. “Leave me,” he says, waving them away with a dismissive hand. The servants bow to him and leave without questioning him. The amount of blood is startling, and he watches in morbid fascination as it clouds his bath water. He manages to pull on his clothes with shaking hands. He doesn’t remember his helmet being so heavy, and he doesn’t remember his clothing being so restrictive.

The guards are waiting outside of his chambers to escort him to the throne room, and Loki tries his best to keep up with their long strides. Each step makes him uncomfortably aware of the fact that he is bleeding again, and the pain in his abdomen makes him want to vomit. He composes himself the best he can, and comes to stand beside his mother just outside of the room. He bows, wincing as soon as he knows his expression is hidden from Frigga by his hair.

Frigga curtseys in response and puts out her hand for him to take. “My son, how was your time in Jotunheim?”

“Unpleasant,” Loki says, truthfully. He forces a smile which comes across as more of a grimace.

“You are unwell.”

“Tis a fever, mother. Perhaps I spent too long in Jotunheim. I have been spoiled by Asgard.”

Frigga presses her mouth into a tense line, but is unable to say anything more as trumpets herald their entrance. They walk in step between the line of guards. Loki wonders how many of them know what has happened. Has Fandral told them of his unusual conquest? Has Heimdall told Odin what happened that night, and the real reason for his visit to Jotunheim? He stops beside Frigga on the steps to the dais and waits for the doors to open. When they do Thor strides through them, already a king in stature and mind. He looks amazing, and with Mjölnir in hand there is nothing left but to admire or fear him – Loki does a little of both.

Odin stands, slamming Gungnir into the floor. The sound reverberates around the room and Thor drops to one knee in front of him.

“Thor Odinson, my heir, my first born. So long entrusted with the mighty hammer, Mjölnir, forged in the heart of a dying star. Its power has no equal, as a weapon to destroy or as a tool to build. It is a fit companion for a king. I have defended Asgard, and the lives of the innocent across my realms in the time of the great beginning.”

Loki watches his brother, trying to focus on anything but the wave of dizziness washing over him. He grips Frigga’s arm to steady himself, and she places her hand atop his wordlessly.

“Do you swear to guard the nine realms?” Odin asks.

Thor looks up, the excitement written clearly upon his face. “I swear.”

“And do you swear to preserve the peace?”

“I swear.”

“Do you swear to cast aside your selfish ambition and to pledge yourself only to the good of the realms?”

“I swear.”

Loki can feel sweat breaking on his brow and he takes a deep breath. He cannot remember ever feeling so hot, not even under Thor’s touch. He closes his eyes, tries to gather himself.

Odin’s voice booms out, proudly. “Then on this day, I Odin, All-Father, will proclaim you-“

Loki’s knees give way and he falls, almost pulling Frigga down with him. He is aware of a rush of voices, and of Thor hurrying to his side. There is a hand pushing his hair from his forehead, and then strong arms lift him from where is prone on the ground. “I have got you, brother,” Thor whispers. “Tell me, what happened?”

Loki closes his eyes as he is carried from the throne room, speaking so only Thor can hear. “I fought Fandral that night, I fought him and he overpowered me. I did not give willingly that which he took from me, brother, please understand that.” He looks up at Thor, his face lit from the lamps of the hall then falling into darkness in between. Over and over, lit and then shadowed, until Loki has to close his eyes.

“I do not understand,” Thor says, casting a glance over his shoulder.

“I was with child, Fandral’s child, which he forced upon me. I could not live like that. My Jotun blood is shame enough to live with; I could not carry a bastard child brought into the world by such violence.”

Guards run ahead and open the doors to the healing room, and Eir gives Thor a long-suffering look as she hurries over to where he lays his brother on a healing stone. Thor ignores her, staring hard at Loki. “Do you speak the truth?”

Loki laughs, and it sounds sad and hollow even to his own ears. “After everything you still think me to have a forked tongue,” he says. He curls up on his side, trying to push the pain deeper, to smother it to death. He cries out in agony, writhing on the stone.

“Do something!” Thor demands of Eir, who pushes him out of the way to be closer to her patient.

***

He awakes to the smell of a meadow, crushed flowers and dried herbs. He can hear Eir and Thor’s hushed voices but he cannot seem to open his eyes. The pain is excruciating now, and he finds himself wishing for death.

***

  
Loki’s sleep is light and fitful, and he can clearly hear the other healers discussing him. He tries to force his eyes open but he can’t. Trapped within his dreams he hears them talk of his monstrous crimes.

“And what of those who cannot conceive? His actions make a mockery of the women of Asgard.”

Another healer laughs. “Yes, but he is Odin’s son – he cannot do wrong.”

There is a long pause. “I think a half-Jotun baby would have been adorable. I do not know how he will be able to live with himself. It is murder.”

Murder, Loki thinks. Yes, perhaps it was. Better murder than to watch his child grow up and for him to resent it – Odin can’t be there to save all children from a life of hatred.

***

When he wakes again Loki is surrounded by his family. He feels his face burn with shame and fear, perhaps they will be decent enough to wait until he is no longer at death’s door before they throw him in the dungeon.

“Oh, Loki,” Frigga whispers, brushing her hand across his forehead. The touch is soothing, and he leans into it. “Thor has told us what happened.”

Loki goes to protest but Odin silences him. “Taking the life of an unborn is against Asgardian rule, as you well know.”

“Father-“

“Silence, Thor,” Odin steps closer. “Do you swear by what you have told your brother – that you did not invite Fandral into your bed, and that you fought him?”

Loki can only nod.

“There will have to be a trial. Would you be prepared to stand against him?”

“I would,” Loki says, his voice quiet.

Odin seems to sag, defeated, as if he did not fully believe Loki until now. “I had not wanted your true parentage to come to light under such circumstances,” he says, his voice tender in a way Loki only ever heard as a child. “I had wanted to explain to you, to both of you,” he gestures to Thor, “properly. But know this – you will always be my son.”

“And mine,” Frigga says.

“And my brother,” Thor adds.

Loki looks between all three of them, startled. This is not what he was expecting. He feels the tears spring to his eyes before he can put his thoughts into words and looks away, mortified.

Odin paces restlessly. “A fitting punishment for Heimdall must be discussed with the council,” he tells Thor.

“No. Please. He did not come to you because I asked him not to.” Loki closes his eyes, not ready to argue his point just yet.

“But he knew you were attacked and he stood idly by. You are a prince of Asgard, whether your bloodline decrees it or not, and though I cannot watch over you all the time Heimdall can.”

Thor turns to Frigga and Odin. “May I speak with Loki alone?”

“Of course my son,” Frigga says, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Loki’s forehead.

When they are gone Thor sits closer, his hand reaching out to take Loki’s in his own. “You are always so cold,” he says with a smile.

“And now we know why,” Loki smiles wryly. Thor’s bright blue eyes bore into him. “You are angry.”

“Yes. All this time you have been suffering through the actions of somebody I called a friend. Somebody who spoke to me and drank with me and fought side-by-side with me whilst you were struggling with the weight of the decision you had to make. Heimdall, too, has betrayed us. I feel there is nobody I can trust.”

Loki sighs. “I murdered a child, Thor, and I did not think twice about it. I deserve no pity. Heimdall did what he thought was right, and I do not blame him. Who am I, anyway? Father may speak of me being a prince but I am nothing but an enemy on the wrong side of the lines.”

“No,” Thor jumps up, fists clenched, “you deserve vengeance. Father has managed to keep me away from Fandral until now, but he will be alone at some point and I will tear him apart with my bare hands.”

“No. You won’t,” Loki tells him, patiently. “You will wait. Fandral will stand trial, and he will be locked in the dungeons with the monsters he put there himself. Surely that is a fate worse than death, if that is what you seek for him?”

Thor nods, thoughtfully. His hand comes out to touch Loki’s stomach gently. The pain inside has eased, and Loki wonders how much of it had been fear that he may never get to speak to his brother like this again. “You told me not to touch you there, and that was good enough for me. But not for him. How could he show you such little respect?”

Loki doesn’t know, and he is too weary to discuss it. He closes his eyes and holds Thor’s hand. “Stay,” he whispers.

Thor rests his head on the pillow beside Loki’s and kisses him softly. “I love you, brother.”

And Loki says, “I know.”


	4. Epilogue

Loki is one of the first to swear an oath of allegiance to Thor, kneeling at the foot of the dais with his head bowed. He had always expected to feel small and unworthy, kneeling at his brother’s feet, but he feels safer than he ever has. After the ceremony the crowds file from the throne room to continue their celebration at the feast, leaving Thor with the council to discuss the future of Asgard under their new king. Loki stands by the throne, looking down on the people who spoke of him unkindly when they thought there was nobody around to hear. It is hard not to be smug.

“Before we begin there is a pressing matter which I need to address – and that is the rules that govern childbirth,” Thor says. “I suggest a decree that guarantees those who carry a child have the right to choose whether they do so full term. If they choose not to all healers will be able and willing to carry out the necessary procedures.”

“My king, if I may,” Thialfi says. “The decree set in place by your father was to make sure Asgard was never under populated – as you know, Aesir children are born infrequently.”

“You speak the truth. But what of those women who carry a child by force? My brother was not the first, nor will he be the last, to suffer at the hands of a person unable to control themselves. Would we have children face the fate of being the bastard child of a rapist?” A shocked murmur rumbles through the crowd. Thor stands up, his hand going to Mjölnir. “Of course the subject is open to debate, but I am afraid it will not change my mind,

“Having relations with another without their consent is a crime, and perpetrators will be punished as murderers would. We will no longer seek to blame victims for something they had no willing part in. If you disagree with this then I am afraid there is no place for you on this council.” Placing Mjölnir down Thor takes his seat once more. “Now. Onto other business.”

***

After Fandral’s trial Loki spends more time in the library than ever before, huddled in dark corners with only a flame suspended in the air in front of him to cast light onto the pages of his book. If Thor had thought his rule and Fandral's imprisonment would wipe the slate clean he was wrong. Nightmares plague Loki's sleep, and he often wakes in a sweat with a cry on his lips in a language unknown. His waking hours are spent being hounded by rumours that make him smile.

"A Jotun for an advisor. Surely he will advise war just to see Asgard burn."

"Or perhaps his work will be more subtle - I have heard that he has poisoned the King's mind to get him to lay with him."

"If that is the case then he may have done it before. Maybe his relations with Fandral were practice for the bigger picture."

Soon enough they stop being whispers and become fact. Somebody somewhere apparently heard Loki whisper a spell into Fandral's ear at the festivities, leading him to his bed. The baby was simply poor judgement, and he blamed Fandral so he wasn't punished for breaking Asgardian law. Heimdall knew all of this, of course, which is why he did not report to Odin. The real fun comes from all of this when Thor overhears someone calling Loki a snake in the grass and he flings them through the wall, much to Loki’s delight. Even Lady Sif came to his defence on more than one occasion, though she refused to speak of the event to anyone afterward.

That night Loki lies with his head on Thor’s bare chest, drawing runes with his finger on his brother’s stomach and watching him shiver in delight. “You will have to stop hitting everybody who passes a comment about me, brother, you are only proving those right who thought you too hot-headed to take the throne.”

Thor sits up. “Like who?” He snaps, offended.

“Me.”

Thor rolls his eyes and lies back down, pulling Loki against him once more. “There are many things I should stop doing,” he says, his hand drawing lazy circles on the small of Loki’s back.

“I cannot keep us hidden from Heimdall forever.”

“Nay. But what will he do? Dare he challenge me? After everything? He was not cast out and for that he should be grateful.”

“This belligerence suits you not, brother. Not all of Asgard is your enemy. You are their king now, and I am your advisor whether they like that or not.”

Thor grunts in agreement. “It would help if you would stop antagonising them – I know you change shape to add fuel to the fire of their rumours.”

“If you’re talking about the horse story –”

“And the serpent story,” Thor laughs. “You do not help yourself. I am starting to wonder if you start these ridiculous rumours so you can control what people say about you.”

Loki jumps up as if burned and walks over to the balcony, still naked. He leans against the wall and looks out of Asgard, the familiar burn of shame inside of him. He listens to Thor move around behind him, trying to suppress the urge to disappear. A thin robe is draped around his shoulders and he wraps it around himself gratefully, closing his eyes as Thor slips his arms around his waist from behind. “It is true – I would rather have ridiculous stories circulating than the truth, the things I do not want to think about.”

Thor kisses his neck. “You need to deal with them, brother. Surely sooner is better than later?”

“That is easy for you to say.”

“It is not. It does not bear thinking about, but sometimes I cannot keep my mind off it.”

Loki nods, turning in Thor’s arms. “Would you have had me keep the baby, had you known?”

Thor considers it for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “I would have asked what you wanted. If you had wanted to keep it then I would have helped you raise it. I would have loved it, just as I love you.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Oh please, save your sentimentality. We could not have raised a child together, Odin would have keeled over.” He laughs, placing gentle kisses along the exposed skin of Thor’s throat and earning himself a moan.

“Odin is no longer king, and he has no say in who I do or do not bed,” Thor says, scooping Loki up in his arms.

“Put me down, you oaf.”

“Know your place, brother.” Thor marches them over to the bed and places Loki in the centre atop the furs.

“Beneath you, I expect?”

Thor smirks playfully, “Of course.” He straddles Loki, pushing open his robe and running his hands over the cool skin of his chest.

Loki mewls in pleasure. “Would you help me forget his touch?” he asks, his voice a sultry purr. “Would you replace him in my mind?”

“If you ask me to.”

“Take me,” Loki whispers.

So Thor does.


End file.
